


Enthralled

by coveredbyroses



Series: The Porn Wars [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Lust Potion/Spell, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 21:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: A hunt for a witch coven goes awry.





	Enthralled

Flowers. It smells like flowers, you realize, eyes cracking open; thick and sweet in the air. You’re heavy and warm - and something’s rocking against you - fuck.  _Inside_  you.

You’re on the floor, that much you know, the rug fibers scratching against your ass and the small of your back where your shirt’s ridden up. You draw your knees up and realize your jeans and panties are caught around your booted ankles. The fat, slick drag of a cock has your consciousness rushing to, and you lurch up a little with sudden adrenaline - but a damp weight has you frighteningly pinned, and you groan and  _shudder_  because the movement has you fucking back down onto the hot thickness that’s punching into you.

It’s dark, too dark, but the bone-deep grunts in your ear tell you that it’s  _Dean_  hitching and jerking over you. Your tongue’s dry and heavy in your mouth, and you have to suck at it a few times before you can get it to move.

“Dean…” Your voice is gravel-rough; abrasive - even against the gritty sounds pushing from Dean’s throat.

He doesn’t answer, just grinds harder and faster, jams a fist under the nape of your neck, thick fingers catching and pulling in your hair as he thrusts in quick and deep. His balls are a wet press against your ass every time he fucks in, and it only takes a solid second to realize it’s your own slick slathering you both.

Every pump pulls a fresh wave of hot wet from your cunt, and you can feel it pooling under your ass. Your shaking, veins burning underneath the heavy mass of him, and it feels  _good_ -

But something is  _very_  wrong.

There was a case; a hunt - a coven. Fuck, the goddamned coven.

“Dean,” you try again, his name more of a whisper-moan than anything, and he responds with a strangled groan and  _hip-snapping_  thrust. You gasp out loud, just shy of a cry -  and  _shit_ , you need to come.

Your arms have been heavy and boneless, outstretched against the rug and prickling with sleep. His shirt’s still on, you realize, palms finding the wide breadth of his shoulders. He shivers at the touch, presses his face into the dewy curve of your neck. His lips are slack and soft against you - so  _warm_ \- and the pillowy brush of them makes you  _spark_.

You call out for him once more, but it’s like he doesn’t hear you - just keeps grunting and groaning against your skin. The grainy sounds rumbling out of him settles into your blood, into your cunt - and you’re clenching down on him every time he shoves inside.

Everything’s just so slippery-hot between you, and the air’s post-rain thick; syrupy-sweet, smells like a flower shop. He’s stuffed into you so deep that he’s not really thrusting now so much as he’s jerking; short and sharp, pelvic bone mashing into your slick, swollen clit.

Your orgasm surprises you - it’s not hard and crashing like you thought it’d be; it’s slow and rolling, kept alive by Dean’s still-grinding hips. Your fingernails have to be deep enough to draw blood now, but his t-shirt’s so soaked through with sticky sweat you’d never know.

He’s gasping and moaning at the wet suction of your cunt around his dick - god, he’s almost  _whining._

You’re still lurching and arching with the aftershocks when he comes; coiled in and over you, fingers eye-wateringly sharp in your hair - and you can feel every twitch of his cock as he floods you with thick, wet warmth.

“Dean,” you pant as he releases you, pushing up and back to slick out of your swollen heat. You swallow. “We gotta…the witches…we gotta find ‘em…” He doesn’t say anything, just blinks at you; wide-eyed and dazed.

Big hands lock around your hips, biceps straining at his sleeves as he swiftly flips you to your belly. You try to crawl forward, but his grip on you is steely as he  _yanks_  your hips up, your chest and cheek limply thumping against the rug. You can hear the rasp against the floor as he knees forward, thighs pressed up against the backs of yours - and then you feel the hot, damp width of his cock pushing against you.

“Dean! Wait - _oh god…”_ Your stomach’s tightening all over again as he works himself into you, and you can  _feel_  him swelling as he stretches you open for the second time today.

Then he starts to thrust.


End file.
